


Mortuus Vivens

by KittyFartingBubbles



Series: Decimation [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, End of the World, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Injuries, Survival, slight romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-28 20:36:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyFartingBubbles/pseuds/KittyFartingBubbles
Summary: February 28, 2015, 08:00 AM"The unknown virus that is spreading faster than authorities can contain it has now been reported in London, Milan, Moscow, USA, Barcelona, Portugal, Casablanca, Istanbul, Tokyo and South Korea. Further reports have confirmed the virus in Hong Kong, Beijing, New Delhi, Rio de Janeiro and Cairo. All the border countries have been quarantined. The President and the government have declared martial law to protect the citizens. The police have advised that a curfew has been enforced and request that all citizens stay in your homes."





	1. Chapter 1

 

  
**March 3, 2015, 11:05 AM**

 

Mark was out of the white and old Ford as soon as it stopped at the curb, his gaze scanning the quiet street. Getting out of the driver's seat, leaving the car door open, he crossed the sidewalk and ran up the steps to the front door, knocking hard on it, with his foot.

 

"Come on, be here," he muttered, peering through the dirty glass window trying to see the interior. "Be here."

 

He took a step back as he saw a shadow move inside, heard the lock being undone, and the door opening, lifting a weight out of his guts and slightly calming his frantic heart, just because, maybe everything was okay...

 

"What's happening?" A petite woman asked, looking at him. "They … people … they are attacking everyone."

 

"Where's Yugyeom?" Mark looked over her shoulder into the house, trying to see the familiar dark-haired mop and the chubby smile.

 

"I..." She said, her lips forming a sad smile.

 

"Please." He breathed out softly, waiting for her to tell him that she was just messing with him.

 

"Mark," she continued.

 

"You said you would take care of him. You promised." He yelled, shoving the woman hard, making her fall onto the floor. He peered over her, trembling in fear and fright just by thinking of Yugyeom alone outside. How could he survive this, there was no way he could.

 

"When I woke I was already late to pick him out of kindergarten. People were running around hurting each other. I didn't know what to do." Pushing her knees up to her chest, she cried hard, begging for his forgiveness, but Mark could not give it to her this time.

 

"You should look for your son no matter what," Mark said, his eyes finding empty bottles of liquor around the house. "How could you drink when you had a four-year-old with you?" He inquires, feeling like the dumbest person in the world for believing in someone that only had given him grief for the most part of his life.

 

"He was in kindergarten and it was just a drink;" The woman begged once again, gripping Mark's pants on her closed fists, he took a step back, not being able to imagine let such filth touch him.

 

"How could you? He's still a baby. I need to... I have to go look at for him. I can't leave him alone out there. He must be so scared. " Mark turned around to leave the house, only to be stopped by her shaking voice.

 

"Mark you did a great job with your brother. He is a happy and caring child. I'm proud of you."

 

Mark shook his head, small tears appearing in his eyes, and for a moment he felt so angry at her that he wanted nothing more than to hurt her, to make her suffer like she did to them. The neglect was something Mark could live with coming off her, he was used to it by now, but his brother was nothing more than a baby and it took him a while to understand why they did not share a house with mommy. _Why, Markie?_ His brain supplied in his brother childish voice, a wave of pain traveling from his toes to the tip of his hair.

 

"You said you would take care of him. I won't ever let him see you again. Goodbye, mother." With that last sentence, he left the house with the cries of the woman in his back.

 

  
**May 25, 2015, 14:55 PM**

  
Everything was too quiet, an eerie calm, something that did not belong to this world, always so full of chit chat and noises. Very rarely did he heard the chirping of the birds. The incessant sound of the cars was mostly gone. Even the buzzing of the insects had vanished. He hadn't seen any signs of life, it appeared that this town, like all the others he'd visited over the last few weeks, was empty, deserted. Trash around the streets, power lines lay curving across the road, glass, and blood everywhere. The only sound that could be heard was the soft slapping of dark brown boots on the road. Mark, was alone with a backpack slung over his shoulder, a knife attached to his belt, and a gun stuffed into his dark jeans. He walked in a straight line, his head bobbing down to look at his feet, his posture stiff, giving the indication he had been walking for a long time, the sweat glistening on his skin was another good proof of that.

 

Mark had no clear destination except straight ahead along the road. This quest he was on was cruel, most likely impossible to ever being complete, but he could not let go. For now, wherever the road would take him that was where he wanted to be, as long as that place had water. He had been traveling alone for quite some time now and his water had run out yesterday, seeing he still had some food left, finding water was his top priority. He wouldn't mind washing off a bit, his hair was soaked with sweat, dirt, and blood.

 

However, nowadays, it was all about survival. Food, water, guns...those were the three basic things needed for survival. Everything else was just a luxury. As unfortunate as it was, that was just the way it worked. Grocery stores and gas stations were one of the first places to run dry, camping supply stores and military surplus stores were also emptied in a blink of an eye, same happened with the gun stores, hospitals, and medical clinics, all of them got the same destiny. A place to stay was another luxury, one that, obviously, Mark didn't have. This new world was one man for himself, take care of you because no one else will. He had seen many brutal things in these few months, stuff that before only used to happen on TV. Scenes that would forever be stuck in his mind, perpetually making him regret some of his decisions.

 

He caught sight of a building up ahead and his pace quickened. The closer he got, more the trees around the road thinned out and soon the one building was becoming three. Before he got too close, he crouched down next to a large tree and silently scanned the area for signs of zombies. The buildings seemed to be a collection of office buildings, they were most likely abandoned when the outbreak occurred.

 

Something moving caught his attention and his gaze shifted, eyeing the two zombies that were wandering slowly around the door of the first building. If those were all that were here, he could take them down easily, but he preferred not to waste time and energy. It was best to search the other two buildings before attempting to do any killing. If he was quick, he could probably make it to the last building without the creatures noticing. The wooden door was slightly ajar, which was an instant red flag. Zombies or other survivors could be inside.

 

Mark pulled his knife from his belt and opened it up while pressing himself against the side of the house next to the door, taking a peek through the crack of the door, but didn't see anything of concern inside. All he could see were rows of cubicles and a few doors. No zombies. As quietly as he could, he opened the door further, slipped inside, and then closed the door behind himself. Papers, books, staplers and the like were scattered everywhere. This place was abandoned in hurry, the lives of those who worked here daily were no longer the same, the majority were no longer in this world either.

 

"Doesn't seem like I'm getting anything useful from here," he muttered to himself, aiming a kick at one of the cubicles, frustration and desperation clawed its way through his body, he was getting nowhere, day after day, always the same routine. He was stuck in this hellhole, a place with nowhere to run or to save himself. Moving his hands over his dirty hair, he let out a sigh and then reached for the doorknob, only to froze instantly when an all too familiar sound reached his ears.

 

Gunshots.

 

And then he was darting over to the closest window searching frantically for any humans. The first building where the two zombies had been before was now completely overrun. More than a dozen were pouring out of the building, all headed toward a small group of very alive people.

 

_People. Such scarcity..._

 

He counted three, all of them appeared to be around Mark's age. Their movements were quick as they scoured the streets, incorporating a planned and precise system, almost as if they had done it countless times. There wasn't much in the way of weapons, it also didn't look like they had many supplies in their vehicle, a sign that they were probably on a supply run for their camp.

 

The threesome disappeared from view as they cautiously continued down the street, leaving their car behind. He continued, peering cautiously over the edge of the window. Brows furrowed in confusion, a scowl etched onto his face at the scene below, watching the bloody massacre unfold as they fought for their lives. They were clearly outnumbered and any moment would die cruel deaths. Nothing new in that.

 

Mark's hand twitched, gripping the knife harder.

 

These people were strangers to him. He didn't need to help them. They could turn on him after he had helped. But they were all so young. All so human and alive. Mark could help them and in the end, they would just go their different ways, nothing more. So instead of wasting time wrestling with the decision in his head, he went with his gut feeling and darted outside to aid, grabbing a hatchet from his backpack.

 

As soon as the humid air hit his face again, he saw two zombies approaching one of the kids and, without a second though Mark quickly threw the knife from his hand at the closest hitting him in the eye, swinging the hatchet hard, nailing the other in the skull, a dark, nauseating smell dripping out of the things rotten head.

 

Startled human faces gazed back at him, but he did not wait for their response, leaving the hatchet he run back into the safety of the building instead, mimicking them to follow him, pulling the gun from his pocket jeans, clicking the safety off, shoving the boy next to him aside as a zombie attempted to grab him while he was gnawing at him. Mark heard him fall to the ground, but he didn't look back, aiming at the next corpse and shooting it down. He guessed that all the hours he spent learning to use a gun were now paying off. His aim was not the best, but it served to slow the thing down giving them time to make an escape.

 

Immediately after they passed through the doors, Mark wrestled with a heavy looking piece of furniture and managed to slam against it, leaning back against the door in a moment of relief. His head was spinning and he cursed under his breath. It was the absolute worst time for dehydration to kick in. One of the kids looks at him carefully, expecting him to say something first. Mark didn't, instead, his hand gripped firmly on his gun in case they decide to try anything. How things had turned out to be, that a gun was his only salvation.

 

"Who the hell are you?" The apparent leader of the group stepped forward, his crossbow raised a little too dangerously for his liking. Mark stared back at him and raised from the floor, trying to shake off his dizziness.

 

"A saving grace it seems," he countered sarcastically. The kid narrowed his eyes readying a smart retort of his own no doubt, but it was the one Mark shoved to the ground who replied, a small smile on his face.

 

"Thanks for knocking me over. I could have handled everything, but thanks anyway."

 

Mark scoffed. "I saved your ass!"

 

"Don't mind them. We had a pretty rough day. Didn't get too much sleep. Name's Youngjae. That's Jaebum," he pointed to the leader, "and the one you saved, _twice_ , is Jackson."

 

Mark snorted, _more like some pretty rough months_ , and then shot a smirk at Jackson before looking up to the kid named Youngjae. He seemed awfully nice for a survivor. "Mark."

 

"Are you alone?" Jackson questioned.

 

"Does it look like I have anyone tagging along? Wait, let me see in my pocket," he quipped, rolling his eyes.

 

"No group? You're pretty young to be wandering on your own. Can't be older than us," Jaebum commented, his glare softening a bit.

 

"Seventeen is old enough in my books."

 

"Jackson's seventeen, we wouldn't let him go alone anywhere," Youngjae piped up.

 

"With his sense of direction, how can I ever leave him alone..." Jaebum mumbled under is breath loud enough for him to hear.

 

"Your opinions and my opinions are different," Mark muttered, trying to avoid the topic. "Look, I helped you and now that the zombies are dead I can't stick around."

 

"We can't just leave you alone," Jaebum said. "You may be tough, but you're still young. The fact that you put your neck on the line to help us proves that you're not like everyone else. I can't just leave you behind knowing all that. That would be on my conscience."

 

Mark stared at him, his eyebrows furrowing together. After everything that happened with his group before he had some serious trust issues, but Jaebum was being so persistent. He didn't seem so scary now, all smiles and soft gazes. The other was right, he was young, but so were they. It would be easy to find food and water while in the group, but he had to share. Not to mention that his baby brother was out there, maybe they could help each other.

 

Would it be such a bad idea to tag along?

 

"Thank you," Jackson said again, this time an air of gratefulness shone through his dark eyes as he smiled up at Mark. It was a nice change from the rotting corpses that had been keeping him company in recent weeks. Mark nodded once in his direction.

 

"It's starting to get late so we'll need to find a place to camp. I'd say here, but we made too much noise and the zombies will be coming in no time. Best we move on." Jaebum pointed out. "Early tomorrow we can scavenge some more supplies and then make our way back to our camp."

 

"Right, let's check the other two buildings since they are all connected. Youngjae you can go with Jackson, and I will go with Mark. If you need anything, scream." Jaebum said and Youngjae smiled at them, before leaving with Jackson.

 

Jaebum and Mark were then left alone and he glanced over at the other. His eyes were narrowed and slightly squinted and his face was wrinkled up in thought as he looked at him. It made Mark feel a little bit uneasy, those sharp eyes on him, and he questioned his decision to let them hang around.

 

"Before we go in, I just want to ask you a question," Jaebum said.

 

Mark remained silent, unsure of what to make of his change in behavior, so cold and harsh in a blink of an eye. Jaebum studied him for a moment, from head to toe, before speaking up again.

 

"How many people have you killed?"

 

Mark took in a sharp breath when he realized what this was. It was a test, to see if he would be trustworthy. Even though Jaebum was the one who wanted him to go with them, he still had to make sure. He had to protect his people, to take care of his family, he had to make sure Mark was not a threat.

 

"I haven't had to kill anyone yet."

 

Mark forced himself to look Jaebum in the eyes, in a desperate attempt to show that he wasn't lying. But he was and the other could never know. Those memories full of pain and misery were ones he tried to block out, but this man was reminding him. A kid that he barely knew, was bringing him back to his past and it was crashing down around him. Mark could see the scenery morphing around him. He could see the rotting bodies desperately trying to reach him. He could smell the filth of blood and dead around him. He could hear the cries of the innocents. Hands reaching out to him, asking for help, but he did no such thing, he only run the fastest he could.

 

Jaebum put his hands on his hips. "Just know that you might have to," he said quietly after a moment of silence, and despite at all, Mark felt how those words hurt Jaebum, how he seemed to be aggravated by the fact that he could not protect Mark, someone he met just instants ago.

 

Then, he motioned for Mark to go ahead and he nodded slowly, turning away from him and taking a deep breath. Mark needed to focus and stay alert now. Slipping another knife from his belt, he opened it up and crept into the dark and dingy office building. It was easy to tell the zombies had been around in the building for a while. Blood was splattered all over the walls and floor. Computers, papers, and chairs were all out of place and splayed all over the floor, it was a repetition of the office they just left. A while ago, he would have thrown up the contents of his stomach at the sight of the gore and blood, but he was used to it by now. It was just more of the same.

 

The soft banging on a door caught his and Jaebum's attention and the other hurried toward the closed door near the back, pressing his ear against the wood. The sounds behind the door were obviously the growling and snarling of one of those things. It would be best for them to avoid it and search the other rooms. But it seemed Jaebum had different ideas.

 

"I'm going to open the door and distract it and I want you to kill it, alright?" he instructed, those intense dark eyes of his jumping to connect with his own.

 

"What? Why can't we leave it there?"

 

"There might be something useful in there," it was Jaebum simple reply.

 

Mark stared at him for a moment before slowly backing away and raising his knife. Jaebum reached out and grasped the doorknob, opening it and then beginning to wave his arms to get the attention of the lone zombie. It growled and staggered toward him, reaching out to try and grab onto him. Mark could always leave Jaebum to deal with it, but he wasn't so sure that if he left Jaebum and ran, things would end up well for him, especially if Youngjae and Jackson were already done looking through the other building. So, with fierce determination, he sprang forward, bringing his foot down hard on the back of the corpse leg. It gave a sickening crack and the zombie fell to the ground in front of him, giving him enough time to plunge the knife into its rotting skull.

 

Jaebum nodded at him and moved forward to the open doorway and Mark followed him into the other room, cleaning his weapon on his soiled shirt. Amidst one of the littered desks, he spotted what appeared to be a bag of chips. Some food was better than no food. There wasn't much else to find, but Jaebum had found a half-empty first aid kit in the bathroom. He gave one last glance around to see if he had missed something and locked eyes with Mark.

 

"Nothing else here," Jaebum muttered, heading back outside.

 

Mark stayed behind for a moment just to shove the bag of chips into his backpack, but he soon caught up with him, who had met up with Jackson and Youngjae just outside the door. He could see how they all cared so much for each other, how they were all uneasy with Mark, but at the same time welcomed him with eagerness. All in his brash, Jaebum looked quite pleased by having found Mark.

 

"There should be a place not too far from here where we can set up camp for the night," Jackson told them, giving Mark another small smile, one that held a hint of something that made him fight off his own smile.

 

"Alright but let's not go too far," Jaebum warned.

 

  
**May 26, 2015, 06:40 AM**

  
They decided to make a trip to the pharmacy, to see if they could find anything there, medical supplies was a must, they couldn't survive if they didn't have a way to fix their injuries. Mark had doubts if the human race could recover completely and be like it once had.

 

The trip was nerve wrecking, everyone was on high alert. The pharmacy had been broken into already, the windows bashed in, but they still needed materials. Jaebum signaled for them to wait around the corner where they were hidden and disappeared for an agonizing minute, returning for them to follow him. Mark and Jackson completely wiped out the shelves, filling backpack after backpack with all kind of medical assortments, peeking at the other two that were guarding the doors.

 

The next place they stopped at was a little store and this one hadn't been raided yet. Mark turned the doorknob, the door swung open so forcefully that he tripped, falling onto his back. A gray and decaying corpse fell on top of him. Instinct was the only thing that kept him fighting. With his hands around his neck, the rancid hair falling into his face. The corpse growled and gurgled at him, snapping his jaw open and close, trying to pull Mark towards him. A tip of a blade suddenly pushed out through the center of the thing's forehead and the zombie immediately collapsed on top of Mark, limp and heavy, the decaying blood dripping down onto his cheek. He heaved him off of him, hyperventilating, and rolling away as quickly as he could. He didn't have time to catch his breath, someone pulling him to his feet.

 

"Run! Run!" Mark could barely hear the screams over the rapid thumping of his heart.

 

Mark, took off running, dodging zombies. There were some loose bullets in his backpack, but he didn't have the time to stop and find them. Mark could see Jaebum and Youngjae's figures just up ahead. Jackson was probably just ahead of them. He was the one falling behind. And then he was being yanked back by his hair, the growling of the dead whispering in his ear. Mark let out a strangled cry as he struggled to escape the grip of the zombie, hands trying to reach the small blade he had attached to his belt. The other zombies were moving in on him and Mark realized he was trapped. The figures of Jaebum and Youngjae had disappeared and he was alone. Suddenly, the crack of a gunshot filled his ears and the zombie that had its grasp on his hair went limp. Mark glanced to his right to see Jackson.

 

"Come on!" he shouted, taking off as the zombies closed in on them.

 

Mark didn't hesitate. He caught up with the boy, taking in short, quick gasps of air to fill his lungs. Jackson must have been behind him rather than in front of him. Even though he and Jackson didn't really know each other for long, he was glad he was there or it would have ended a lot differently. The longer they ran, the more distant the snarling of the zombies became and soon he had to stop to breathe. Mark bent over and placed his hands on his knees, trying to steady his breaths as Jackson did the same.

 

"Where are Jaebum and Youngjae?" Mark spluttered, looking over at Jackson, hands on his knees.

 

"They were just up ahead last time I checked," the other replied breathlessly.

 

Mark quickly scanned the area around them, seeing no signs of the others. He couldn't hear anyone shouting or any of the zombies anymore either. Everything was silent. Everything was once again back to the silent and lonely world he knew so well.

 

Slowly, he straightened up and took a deep breath, his eyes locking with Jackson's. "We're alone."

 

  
**May 28, 2015, 16:55 PM**

 

Jinyoung looked up as he heard the rumble of the car engines, dropping the book he was reading, as two vehicles drove slowly and pulled up in front of the house.

 

Two weeks ago, they separated the group, dividing their hunt for supplies in a way they considered safer. Jinyoung stayed in the camp, taking care of it and the little kid they had found lost in the streets. It was a hand full, dealing with Kunpimook. The jeep pulled up in front of the gate and the driver's door opened, the familiar shock of dark hair, contrasting with the pale face of Youngjae.

 

"Jinyoung," Youngjae said, coming to him. "Sorry, we're late."

 

Jinyoung grinned at him, inclining his head to the left slightly. "You should warn me!"

 

"Sure," Jaebum said, coming out of a green Citroen. "Next time I'll be sure to remember that. I will talk to you through telepathy."

 

"We brought you a new kid. To make company to the other brat." Youngjae said, helping chubby legs getting out of the car.

 

"Hello." The little kid murmurs and Jinyoung couldn't grasp how someone could leave such a young child defending for themselves on this horrible world. He was still a baby, probably the same age as Kunpimook, or even younger, it was hard to tell under so much dirt.

 

"Aren't you a cutie pie." Jinyoung cooed, smiling softly, only to get serious the next second. Where was the loud and boisterous whining of Jackson? He looked at Jaebum, seeing the way the leader was avoiding his eyes. "Jackson?" Jinyoung asked, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall.

 

"We found another survivor, and they both got behind. We waited for them an entire day, next to our cars. That was the plan, if you get lost, go wait next to the cars. But they weren't there and we couldn't wait any longer. We will go back there tomorrow and see if we can find them. Jackson also knows where our camp his. The only thing we can do now is waiting."

 

Jinyoung nodded, taking the little kid by the hand, asking him if he was hungry.

 

"And hope." Jinyoung heard Youngjae whispering.

 

 

 

 

_"Shit!" Mark mutters when he is shoved against a wall._

 

_Yugyeom stirred against his back, "No... bad word."_

 

_Mark snorts softly, whispering, "Sorry, baby. Forgive me?" He feels Yugyeom nod against his shoulder blade and reaches a hand to his back to pet the fluffy black hair._

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**May 28, 2015, 22:08 PM**

  
They sat together in the stillness, listening to each others breathing. Mark could still feel the warm and slippery dark blood covering his fingers, the scent of the dead on his own skin. He sat curled up on the floor, his head on his hands, rocking slowly back and forth. Once he had everything and it all been taken from him. Mark knew he was on the edge of hysteria and he fought against it, thinking of his little brother and what he would do if he couldn't pull it together. He thought of his sweet smell and happy voice, expecting it would calm him down.

 

They were camping at some empty house, clothes, and paper everywhere, creating a mess on the carpet. Jackson was a lot quieter and serious than Mark thought. Likely due to the situation they were in. Either way the other was a good company, a bit quiet in the beginning, but when he started to talk was difficult for him to stop. Taking slow and deep breaths, Mark felt the panic and anxiety slowly disappearing, leaving his head clear. A few months back, he barely could deal with those fits, but now, after some concentration and deep breathing, he found himself calming, without the aid of pills.

 

He heard a whimper and looked to his left, where Jackson was sitting, right next to him, grimacing as he examined his arm and Mark saw the puddle of intense red forming in the floor, so vivid, so different from the zombie's acrid blood and the decaying smell that came with them.

 

"You're hurt!" Mark was in motion before he'd finished speaking. He covered the distance in a long stride and shook his head, half-reaching out to Jackson, his hand hovering. Jackson nodded at Mark's inquisitive look, giving him a silent permission to clean his wound.

 

Mark lifted Jackson's arm a little to take a good look at the wound itself. It was a clean cut, bleeding slowly, the edges of the wound were ragged and painful looking, Mark frowned, hoping that cleaning it would be enough.

 

It wasn't as painful as Jackson had feared. The antiseptic stung and burned as Mark wiped away the blood with a murmur of apology. Then there was the slight scrape of gauze over his bruised arm. He gritted his teeth, sternly willing his stomach to settle, and planning how he would eventually tease Mark for being so preoccupied with someone he barely knew. Just not tonight, _maybe next week_.

 

Mark leaned closer to fasten the bandage around his arm, Jackson was deeply aware of Mark's warmth on his skin. He could feel the tickle of Mark's slightly uneven breaths against the skin of his throat. It was an undeniably erotic sensation, and he watched the soft pink tinge to Mark's cheeks, how he was staring fixedly at the bandage and not meeting Jackson's gaze.

 

Mark's hands shook, and he jerked his head down to stare at the white dressing, trying to concentrate on the task at hand and ignore the beat of need that throbbed through him. The unfairness of it all stuck in his throat and he turned away, clenching his jaw as he reached for something neutral to say.

 

“The scratch is long, but not deep, it will heal nicely." Mark forced himself to say, trying to calm his fast beating heart.

 

"I got caught in some glass," Jackson said sheepishly, gracefully accepting the change. “And you how are you? You were pretty bad right now."

 

"It was just a small panic attack. I can deal with them." Mark said, finishing wrapping Jackson's arm, biting his bottom lip hard. "All done. Thank you for having my back out there, you know the other day."

 

"I saved your ass _twice_!" Jackson smirked at him, fingers reaching to touch the bandage.

 

Mark nodded at Jackson, bowing to him slightly. "Thank you," he said honestly.

 

"Ah, anytime," Jackson said, pushing him to sit on the floor next to him.

 

"You know, Jackson, we have to move on."

 

Jackson looks him in the eye, his expression entirely unreadable, especially in nothing more than the faint light of the flashlight they have on. Then, he turns his head to face the blocked window, and says, "I make my choices and I live with them."

 

It's as much an answer as Mark is likely to get, but he thinks that he gets it. He gets why Jackson says it even, he seems the kind that has never tried to run like Mark did. He lives in this world, does is best to survive in it, chooses is own right and wrong, he lives with it. Mark, on the other hand, he hasn't been living with it. He's been drowning in it. There is a difference between just staying afloat and fighting your way to safety.

 

Mark nods, resting his head gently on Jackson's shoulder. The world is bare and empty, almost void, and Mark feels it again that cold guilt and the creeping feeling numbness. Outside there are creatures that are trying to kill him, and everyone who still as a heartbeat, and Mark has done nothing but sit around feeling sorry for himself. And that's what Jackson fucking meant. Living with it.

 

  
**June 16, 2015, 10:22 AM**

 

By now, the cold weather was supposed to be giving away to the hot and humid air of the Summer, the problem was that it wasn't, there were times that the temperature dropped over without any warning for a few days, and Mark was miserable, lips and hands red and chapped. Jackson seems to tolerate the chilly weather a little better, but he still sits close to Mark when they take a rest, tries to block the wind with his body when they're walking. It doesn't help that much, but Mark leans into him when he can, to show that he appreciates the effort.

 

Been a few weeks since he and Jackson had got lost, a few weeks where Mark got to know Jackson, sometimes it still takes him by surprise how thing are so effortless between them, how they gave the vibe of being friends for a very long time, only to got harshly reminded that no, that was not the true. Jackson talked a lot, mostly to keep himself occupied, or maybe it was just a way to keep the thoughts at bay. He talked how he missed Kunpimook, how sometimes he could hear Jinyoung's voice ringing in his ears, how Youngjae would not shut up about medical facts that no one cared about, how Jaebum was, in reality, the softest of them all, _right after Jinyoung that is_.

 

But not everything was cotton candy and unicorns, they had their first fight when Mark questioned the other about his friends.

  


 

**June 02, 2015, 07:19 AM**

  
"So what's the story of your friends?"

 

Jackson was silent for a moment before saying, "We all knew each other. When things started to get iffy we got all t together. It was terrifying at first, still is..." Mark saw Jackson swallow hard, his eyes someplace else. "The guys are my family."

 

"Cute." Mark smiled softly, because they still had each other and, they still had family and friends. Mark did catch the way Jackson avoided to talk about his parents. Probably not a happy story, but who was the lucky one that had something happy to share?

 

"What about you?"

 

"Yeah...What about me?"

 

Mark never really liked to talk about his parents. They were never a great family, but it gets worst when Mark's father passed away after his baby brother was born. His mother didn't know what to do with a teenager and an infant. She didn't care much when Mark turned fifteen and took his, that time two year old, baby brother away from home. He got jobs, where someone would hire a 15-year-old, he did all kinds of things and they were actually getting better. Mother would pass by their small apartment to check on them, to see how they were doing one in a couple weeks. Mark doubt he had ever been happiest in his life.

 

"Why are you so closed off?" Jackson asked suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed.

 

_Why was he so closed off?_

 

That was a stupid question. Did Jackson look around at the world they lived in? How could Mark trust easily in this apocalyptic universe when they were existing like this.

 

"Why are you so open?" he countered.

 

"I'm not. I'm just not as closed off as you are and you are avoiding my question."

 

Mark stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he caught his gaze. "You don't know me and what I've done."

 

"Everyone has had to do something they never thought they would. Everyone as been through something similar, Mark." Jackson replayed, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

"The things I've done might not be the worst, but they still affected me." Mark watched Jackson, waiting for the other to say anything. He started to walk when Jackson nodded slightly to him, indicating that _that_ topic was over.

 

.  
.

 

"We will try to find you a warmer jacket today," Jackson says and Mark flips his hood up, trying to come back to the present. From that day, they decided to make their way to where Jackson's friends were, from what Mark understood, they had traveled almost three weeks when looking out for supplies, it should take them more than that though, for them to find the place.

 

“Maybe some gloves too," Jackson says eyeing his red and freezing hands with a grimace.

 

The Mega Mart they have been eyeing for the last week is relatively untouched, which is a miracle. The fresh foods are gone, as most of the camping and survival gear, along with the bottled water, the first aid supplies and batteries are also wiped out, but that is mostly what they have encountered everywhere so far.

 

Jackson founds a good pair of boots and puts them on right away leaving his old and battered sneakers behind. He finds a pair of earmuffs, a bright yellow monstrosity and puts them on.

 

Mark looks at him, barely suppressing a smile and says, "Really?"

 

"What? My ears are cold."

 

"They're ugly," Mark points out seriously.

 

"This is the apocalypse, not too many humans alive to laugh at my wardrobe choices. Besides, your new hoodie is pink and kind of fluffy." He banters as he fills his backpack with the few instant noodles packages he can find, the earmuffs already forgotten on the floor.

 

Jackson hears the creatures before he sees them, the soft gurgles and the scraps of feet against the floor and freezes, hand looming over a can of peaches.

 

"Mark," he says urgently, under his breath, hoping Mark will hear, but he doesn't. Jackson can hear him muttering to himself about chocolate in the aisle next to his. He backs down on the shelf next to his crowbar and slowly throws his backpack to his back. He looks at the thing and throws himself at the zombie midsection, knocking him down to shelve. Paint cans cascade down around him and one hits Jackson in the head, leaving him reeling for a moment. He climbs gingerly to his feet, wiping the dripping blood from his forehead. He can hear it now, getting closer by the second, the sound of a baseball bat banging against something metal, almost taunting the selvage creatures.

 

He looks at the creature trapped underneath a mess of heavy bottles and sees Mark suddenly looming over it, bat raised above his head with both hands. Mark brings it straight down onto the top of the things head. There's a dull, wet sound, like a watermelon hitting the floor.

 

Mark stares at the body in shock, eyes wide in his pale face. "Mark," Jackson gasps.

 

"It sounded human, just for a moment I forgot and I panicked."

 

"I..." Jackson was fishing for something to say. _It was human once, but not anymore_? How would that help the situation? "That was close," He says hoarsely instead staggering around.

 

"You okay? You always seem to get hurt." Mark asks, but Jackson is busy checking him out, he doesn't actually have a mark on him, but he is disheveled and sweaty, face still pale.

 

Jackson brings a finger to the cut on his head and winces softly, "Yeah. You?" He asks back.

 

Mark doesn't answer him, instead, he steps closer Jackson, then closer and Jackson reaches for him, expecting a hug, but instead, Mark's flicks him in the cheek with a finger.

 

"Ow!" Jackson says, still a little woozy from knocking his head.

 

"I can't believe you, what were you thinking." He flicks Jackson again.

 

"Ow, stop it!" Jackson says. He rubs his abused cheek and tries not to pout. A little sympathy would be nice, he just got hurt, he looks sadly at his new, now, bloody shirt.

 

"I'm pissed off. Do not think that looking pathetic is going to get you out of this," Mark says menacingly. "Let's get our stuff and get the fuck out of here. I can't believe you tackled a zombie," Mark says to Jackson, mostly to distract himself, and mostly because he actually can't believe it.

 

"You've been sleeping next to me all this time and never knew the danger." He says with a smirk, only to receive a very angry look from Mark. Too soon to make jokes out of this encounter.

 

After Jackson changes into clean clothes, Mark uses his ruined shirt to clean the blood out of his face. He is so painfully gentle, fingers of his other hand resting lightly on Jackson's jaw as he carefully wipes it with trembling actions. Mark exhales shakily and Jackson says thickly, "We should get going. It's not safe to stay here."

 

After that, they're rarely out of each others sight, they start sharing their blankets as they settle in for the night, enjoying the warmth that they give off, not even pretending to sleep apart anymore. Jackson caught Mark looking at him sometimes, a look that he does not if it right to the kind of world they now inhabit, he knows they're walking a thin line, circling around each other, deciding what is the best action to take, but he does not know if he can continuing to pretend.

 

  
**June 24, 2015, 12:04 AM**

 

Jackson is driving on the wrong side of the road, windows rolled down in some pathetic attempt to rid himself of the sweltering heat, that appeared out of nowhere; _yesterday was freezing_ , as Mark is nodding off in the passenger seat, head bumping on the soft padded seat.

 

Mark seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Jackson had caught him, more than once now, babbling in his sleep about Yugyeom, whoever that was. It was disturbing, terrifying even, watching Mark mumble and cry out, twitching here and there in his sleep.

 

Jackson was confused. He knew, believe him, Jackson more than anyone knew how he had never been good with girls, preferring to just let Jaebum bring a girl back and they would eat pizza, drink beer and occasionally kiss before he got so uncomfortable he had to leave. It's not that he didn't like girls; it was just that…He just didn't know how to talk to them.

 

The only girl he had ever got along with was his mom and she didn't count because he didn't want to kiss her or anything, that would be disgusting and seriously, Jackson should stop this train of though right now. Why did he have such a small attention span was something that he didn't understand.

 

It’s around noon when he pulls into the gas station, gives another look at the sleeping Mark on the passenger seat and shrugs, locking the car behind him, going for the pumps. He looks over his shoulder, eyes the jerry cans in the back of the jeep and decides he should fill up the three that are empty, gasoline is a highly refined product, and that means it degrades over time, _at least that was what Youngjae said_.

 

“Really? Who is going to come and steal the car?" Asks a not so awake Mark from inside the car. The sarcasm all but evident in his voice, but the petulant smile on his lips cuts the effect of the tone. That and the sleepy cute face he is making in the sunlight.

 

“Shut up, we never know." Yeah, Jackson did have a small infatuation towards Mark, one that was growing as the days pass by...

 

Mark eyed Jackson filling up the cans of gasoline, hands strumming a beat on the car door. Their trip had all but just begun, it was good they had a secure place to rest and restock. Better yet that Mark had company, food, water, weapons. Still, there was something missing. What about his brother? Lately, Mark would found himself latched on memories and dreams of a safer world, where he was living happily with the ones that were important to him. It was rather stressful when he was forced to wake from those. The hope lingering around him, making him feel hopeless when he could finally taste the lie in his tongue.

 

"Mark!" Jackson right hand hovering in front of his face.

 

"Sorry, I was thinking."

 

"About what?" Jackson asked nonchalant, his hand going to rest on the steering wheel.

 

Mark could see by the way Jackson asked, the other wasn't waiting for an answer. Jackson asked for asking. As some talk about the hot sun or the dark clouds. It was more of a statement than anything else. That simple fact was enough to get Mark thinking. They were friends and knew so little about one another. He wanted to tell Jackson every single tiny thing. How Mark used to love to run, and now running was the worst thing that someone could ask of him. How red was his favorite color, but now that the world was tainted with it, it just made him sick to his stomach. How Yugyeom would call him daddy when he was distressed. Yugyeom.

 

"My little brother. He's the cutest kid I've ever seen. I worry about him, a lot." Mark replied, resting his chin on his hand.

 

"I didn't know you have a brother," Jackson said, eyes leaving the road for a second to look him in the eye.

 

"Yeah, I miss him. Sometimes I even miss my family." He said, trying to fight the warm moisture forming in his eyes. It just felt wrong for Jackson not to know about him and his worries.

 

"What happened to him?" Jackson asked in a low voice, his hand this time stopping in his thigh. The small contact was enough to make Mark's breath itch.

 

"I don't know." Was his simple answer. Because it was true. Mark didn't know.

 

"Oh." Jackson let out softly like he knew what that was, how much it hurt and ache. _He probably did_.

 

"Not knowing is the worst. Is he waiting for me? Is he healthy? Yugyeom is only a baby, he just turned four." What was the reason that Mark had to fight, why could he not let go of his emotions? He saw no reason for why he could not let it all out. So he did, in front of Jackson he became a mess of tears and sobs, all the damage, frustration, hurt, was slowly making his way out of his system.

 

"Mark." And it took him a few seconds to see that they were not moving, Jackson stopped the car in the middle of the street and was now hugging Mark, engulfing him on a warm cocoon. It was comfortable and safe, and when was the last time Mark felt so loved?

 

"I will help you, I promise." Mark could only nod against the warm and firm chest, hitching to ask Jackson what about you. Most of the time he hates it when people share some tragedy from their own past in an attempt to bond with him or let him know they understand how it feels, but for some reason when it comes to Jackson, Mark just wants to know.

 

“My parents are in China." Is what Jackson whispers to him as if saying it out loud would make it hurt more, break the bubble he created between his feeling and what he knows is the truth. Mark can read the unsaid words, the tiny spark of hope that things maybe had a happier ending in other places. "My whole family is there, actually, but for some reason, I feel like for once I'm not the unluckiest bastard in the room."

 

Mark can't help it, he feels himself cracking a smile and as soon as he does, Jackson's wry look turns into a soft, small smile. "How long?" Mark asks. “How long until it stops feeling as if everything is spinning the wrong way?"

 

"For me, it's still spinning the wrong way," Jackson admits. "But I learned to live with it." Mark frowns at that, a rush of helplessness wells up inside of him and he burrows in close to Jackson, who responded by gripping his shoulders a little tighter and putting his chin on Mark’s head.

 

Was a hug between friends, supposed to feel like this?

 

  
**June 27, 2015, 11:34 AM**

 

Jackson must have been really lucky to have gotten through everything with his friends by his side. In this new world, everyone had to know how to defend themselves. Everyone had to know how to use a weapon. Everyone needed to know when to stay away from strangers and when it was okay to approach them. In a sense, there were more rules now than there had ever been before all of this.

 

It was a month now, that he had met Jackson and his friends, a month that they got lost and started this trip, after a few days of relative normalcy, they saw them. It was bound to happen again some time but it always ended up as a surprise to Mark, no matter how normal it was. They could not see them very well, too risky to get closer and throw in the middle of a fight, but Mark could hear the moans and snarls.

 

"Fuck," Jackson says, a faint thread of alarm in his voice. There were about a dozen zombies. He and Jackson wouldn't be able to take them all on their own. They didn't have many bullets and trying to take them out with just knives would be suicide. Mark was good, but not a miracle worker. Guess they had to take another way to reach their objective.

 

"What do you want to do?" He whispered, glancing over at Jackson.

 

Jackson stared at the lot for a moment more before nodding slowly and sighing. "We have to avoid them. It shouldn't take that long to found a place and rest for a couple of days."

 

  
**July 03, 2015, 07:50 AM**

 

"You said we would rest for a few days," Mark whined, putting a hand in front of his eyes to stop the sun from hurting them. They were on foot, had been for a few days now, they hadn't found any fuel for the car and had to let it behind. They had too many supplies to carry too, so they did their best to hide the car, the things they could not bring stashed under the car seat and told themselves they would come back for it later. They both knew it was a lie.

 

"I did not say such thing." Jackson sassed, receiving a violent push from Mark, Jackson had to fight the urge to stick his tongue out.

 

  
"It's been a week since we lost our car. I'm hungry. Thirsty too."

 

  
"We lost the car like yesterday, quite your whining. We're almost there. Ten minutes!" Jackson said as a matter of fact. Mark shot him a hard glare, full of anguish and Jackson smirked at him.

 

.  
.

 

Jackson stabbed a finger on the old and wrinkled piece of paper whimpering. "This thing is all wrong. Stupid map." By now Mark had discovered Jackson _difficulty_ in following directions, he was horrible at it and often got them in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

"I think it's you who are all wrong, Jacks. Don't blame the paper for your incompetence!"

 

Jackson grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, knuckles digging into Mark's head and making him yell out in mock annoyance as the both of them started to wrestle together, hands, arms, legs, knees, feet and even heads butting against one another as the two of them playfully fought.

 

For a moment Mark forgot they were in the middle of the sunny street, and they ended up landing on the floor with Mark pinned underneath Jackson's full weight, his cheek pressed up against Jackson's chest and his hair ruffled to a state where he knew it would have giant knots that he would have to attempt to comb out with his fingers later on.

 

Mark let Jackson sit on him for a few minutes, oddly calm and relaxed with the weight of the other on top of him and the sound of Jackson's soft breathing ringing in his ears. He closed his eyes and let himself pretend for a few precious minutes where he was, this was the most peaceful state Mark had been in a while. It was refreshing and comfortable, even with his stuffed backpack digging painfully on his back.

  
.  
.

 

They found a house with a sturdy fence around it, it seemed enough to keep the zombies at bay, they deem it safe for a rest. The sun was already starting to set and Mark could not help but scoff at Jackson; _Just ten more minutes and we will find a place_ , it was more like ten more hours.

 

Jackson enters through a window to open the front door at Mark, who is checking every corner in the street, looking for something that should not be there. The house is empty and stale, no sign of everyone living in it for quite some time. Mark would also say that this house was not abandoned in a rush, it was almost like that whoever lived here was counting on coming back later; the dirty plates in the sink, the stale food in the fridge, the moldy bread, all signs of; _I will come back later_.

 

Jackson gentle hand on his back gave him a little shove, telling him that he understood, but that it was a necessary evil. _It was all about survival_ should become is new mantra, for Mark that was enough, but there was always a twinge of something more behind it.

 

**July 03, 2015, 07:50 AM**

  
"Where do you want the weapons and ammo?" Youngjae asked Jaebum, as he walked in with a couple of boxes in his arms.

 

"Basement. There's plenty of space down there and it's the kids won't go there."

 

Supplies. Their last hunt had been cut short and even though the huge pantry, had a surprisingly large stock of packaged and preserved foods, and some other goods they still needed more. A trip to the town was on order for today. Fences. Some kind of secure perimeter. Chainsaws, all kind of tools, diesel, the generator was something they need badly. The list of things they need grew in his head.

 

Jaebum glanced down at the brown pickup, parked to one side of the clearing and turned around, heading back inside. He found Youngjae talking to Jinyoung in the kitchen. They were standing by the window, the kids on the floor playing some kind of game.

 

"Jinyoung, want to head to town with me, check out what's still there?"

 

Jinyoung looked at him and nodded slowly. "Youngjae, don't forget to feed them."

 

The windows were down as they sped along the deserted road, the wind whipping at the loose strands of Jinyoung's hair. He was looking to the devastated city, feeling something akin to hurt and awed. Jinyoung never leaves the camp much, not since that first encounter he had with the creatures. The sight of a corpse drooling and eating someone's guts out was too much. Not that he told anyone that, but he knew that everyone could see through his brave facade. He didn't care though, it was something that made him feel safer.

 

When they got there, the town was quiet. It seemed that most of the population had been infected close to the same time. The feed store was out of town, a mile or so and Jinyoung could already see the fields full of tall crops, rippling in the light breeze. He and Jaebum loaded rolls of wire and tools, cans of oil and grease and solvent, boxes of fastenings and a couple of lamps, into the backseat of the truck.

 

By the time they'd finished loading everything useful they could find, Jinyoung found a small treasure, a big grin made his way to his face. Jaebum lifted a brow at him questioningly.

 

"What?"

 

"Check it out," Jinyoung said, opening one of the boxes to find it filled with a variety of vegetables and early fruit. Jaebum stared at the food.

 

"We're going to manage to eat all that?"

 

"Really?We have seven people to feed."

 

"Jinyoung..." Jaebum voice is tiny, the name is barely a whisper coming out of his mind.

 

"No. You've got seven kids to feed, you included." Jinyoung said, carrying the box to the truck of the pickup.

 

 

_"But I want you to come with me." Little pudgy fingers wrap themselves on Mark's sweatshirt, imploring._

_"I promise I will be back quickly. Tomorrow." He says pulling Yugyeom to his arms. "You have to be good, okay?"_

_"You're going to come later, Markie?"_

_"Yup!"_

_"Promise?"_

_"No matter what baby, I promise."_

_“I love you, daddy."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go, but the sequel will come next. I just have to revise it... Hope you guys enjoy it ♡


	3. Chapter 3

 

  
**July 04, 2015, 17:00 PM**

 

Youngjae looked around the room, his normally smooth forehead creased in dissatisfaction. The dispensary barely held supplies. They had the basics, but not enough of them. And the things that were impossible to be manufactured now were in very low supply. Turning abruptly, he left the room and walked down the long cold hall toward the offices.

 

Jinyoung looked up as the younger strode in, his hand automatically moving to rest on what he'd been looking at, Jaebum, who was leaning over the desk looking up as well.

 

"Guys something has to be done."

 

Jinyoung lifted a brow slightly and looked at Youngjae. "About what?"

 

"About our medical supplies," He said, walking to the desk and sitting down stiffly in the chair facing it. "Our lack of medical supplies," he clarified tersely.

 

"What do we need?" Jaebum asked, seeing the youngest frustrated expression.

 

"Everything!" Youngjae burst out. "Antibiotics, painkillers, sutures, needles, syringes, gauze, swabs, bandages."

 

"One thing about the world as it is right now, the medical industry was huge, so we'll find what we need, for free" Jinyoung said, trying to calm Youngjae.

 

The other shook his head. "Maybe we will, but what are we going to do when we run out?"

 

Jaebum looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't know. We have to figure it out, somehow."

 

"People will die of infection again. From broken limbs, we can't x-ray to set properly. They'll die of misdiagnosis –"

 

"Even a few years ago, they did that," Jinyoung reminded him softly. "At least no one's likely to die of too much cholesterol or diabetes these days."

 

"You guys don't think we'll ever get back what we had, do you?"

 

"I think it's unlikely," Jinyoung admitted reluctantly. "Learning from trial and error took a long time the first time around."

 

"But there must be people who know how to do it, to make … everything?"

 

"There probably are," Jaebum said, leaning forward across the desk. "But so much was automated, so much was generated on a computer, I'm not sure how much help that's going to be."

 

Youngjae looked at him sourly. "You guys are depressing to talk to, you know that?"

 

  
**July 07, 2015, 06:30 AM**

  
The noises awoke Jackson.

 

Snarls and groans from behind the large door echoed into the small, makeshift room that consisted of a mattress and a few blankets. With eyes tightly sealed, Jackson relished the last few moments of peaceful sleep, in Mark's arms. Ithad become a habit and Jackson didn't complain because it had never felt so much like family when he had his arms around Mark. He could say he was confused, but what was there to be confused about? The world as they know does not exist anymore. It's a fight for survival, he should do what he thinks is best, not what the society would think of _right_.

 

Jackson shook his head, and wriggled his way out of Mark's embrace, trying not to wake the other. Wincing at the prickling sensation in his neck, Jackson sighed once again when the sounds of corpses echoed through the room once more, an immediate reminder of their current dilemma. Now that he thought about it, was there a possibility of a _happy ending_ for them? No matter where they escape to, humanity would have to spend the rest of their lives living in fear, cowering behind walls and fences. This world is quickly reverting to a state of anarchy. And, although anarchy might sound good on paper, in reality, it usually means that the people with the most weapons and the largest number get to hold power over everything.

 

Yawning, he jumped to his feet and reached for the bloodied machete leaning against the wall, clicking his neck either side in preparation for what needed to be done. Quietly, Jackson approached the door, trying to determine how many corpses were behind it. Their rotting stench wafted in with cries of hunger and he paused to swallow back the bile that had risen in his throat. Better kill them when the group was small.

 

He yanked the door wide and slammed his machete into the first corpse. There were only two of them so he swiftly dispatched the last one with a wild whirl of his machete and kicked his way over, searching for other corpses. The hallway was narrow, so even if a group attacked he would be able to take them down one by one, or they could always use the emergency exit. Luckily, he was saved the hassle as no other corpses approached.

 

It wasn't even seven in the morning and already he had killed two corpses, _what would daddy say_? he smirked at the thought of his frail father witnessing his current state, picturing the look of outrage in his eyes. His mom legendary scowl, that nine out of ten times his irresponsible self had deserved it.

 

It hurt to think about them, his family. The memory of his mother's face brought with it the familiar pain and longing enclosing his chest. Jackson shut his eyes, leaning against the wall of the narrow corridor. Times like these he hated most; when the agonizing recollection of memories suddenly dawned on him with no chance of escape. His mother was dead now. Just like his father was dead too. This damn virus killed his family.

 

Sighing heavily, he shook his head to be rid of the past and got to work on disposing of the corpses. He dragged their bodies to the end of the hallway, dumping them over the edge of the railing to the pile of corpses gathered on the first floor. The smell usually masked their human scent, but there was always the occasional corpse that managed to sneak in through their defenses, deciding it was time to make breakfast. Mark was always saying wonders about his breakfasts.

 

.  
.

 

Mark must have fallen asleep with Jackson wrapped around him again, not that he ever questioned it, Jackson being wrapped around him, strangely enough, led him to sleep easier, because he woke up to feel Jackson's breathing against his ear.

 

"Breakfast is ready, sleepy head." Jackson murmured to his ear, hand brushing away the hair from his eyes, Mark's face flushed red in embarrassment and he let out a soft whine, nearly falling off the mattress in the process and only being able to stay on it with Jackson's hand moving to clutch at his shoulder, pulling him back onto the comfortable mattress. The smile he received didn't make him feel any better.

 

"You feeling bit stiff there Mark," and damn it all, Jackson Wang! Mark could still feel the red hot flush of humiliation on his face, that, apparently noticeable considering the look of shock that had appeared Jackson's handsome features, his mouth twisted into a look of worry as he tried to reach out to grab at Mark's face.

 

"Hey, hey Mark," Jackson grabbed him by his jaw, forcing him to remain still and look into his eyes. "Mark hear me out for a second. Okay?"

 

To be quite honest, no, he wasn't okay with that. Talking to Jackson could only mean disaster and Mark had had quite enough of disaster to last him a lifetime, a thought he was just about to voice when Jackson's lips brushed over his own, still, Mark moved forward to get closer towards Jackson, his emotions a mix of resentment and confusion at his body's actions.

 

He wondered when the talking was going to come in but then decided very briefly he simply didn't care when Jackson's tongue was tracing his lips, the strong body of the other rendering him breathless when he felt Jackson hug him, the raising of his chest, clearing Mark's head for a moment, making him question what they were doing. Jackson caressings on his back were making him sleepy and Mark let himself go, just enjoying Jackson's fingers brushing his back soothingly.

 

  
**July 17, 2015, 08:40 AM**

 

Jackson looked along the empty street carefully, searching out the shadows, looking for movement, for a reflection or shape or color that didn't belong. He nodded once and started moving again when he was sure that none of those were present in the deserted concrete and brick buildings to either side, peripherally aware of Mark to his right, the soft crunch of their boots over the rubble that covered the pavements.

 

This city was not looking good, he thought as he turned the corner and searched the next section of the street. None of the cities had fared all that well, the skyscrapers burned out, the streets filled with the rusting and desiccated hulks of vehicles, with glass and metal and the detritus of a world long dead. But he had never seen a city like this, picked clean of most of the supplies. Whatever he would raid, normally, would still have some kind of food, beans or canned tuna, not much, but if he looked around closely he would find something.

 

There were still places that held things of use, even when the entire area looked and smelled like a mausoleum. People didn't like to enter in cities like this one, when step after step they would tumble on rotting corpses, that was probably the reason that had left a surprising number of stores and goods untouched. And if they'd been stored far enough from the reach of the weather, they were often still intact. But this city was clean.

 

A soft whistle pulled his thoughts back to the street, and he saw Mark looking ahead, their target in sight. Nodding, Jackson moved out, watching the shadows and the piles of crap that filled the street, there was something moving in the dark. They had to get out of here, quickly.

 

"Mark," Jackson raised his voice a little as he saw the corner of the building in his peripheral vision.

 

"Yoh," the older answered. "What?"

 

Jackson backed around the corner and turned. "We have to get away!" Jackson yelled at Mark. There must have been a nest nearby for them to be so many.

 

"Holy shit," Mark says, looking behind Jackson, voice trembling slightly.

  
.  
.

 

Mark stared in disbelief as corpses trampled forward. There were dozens of them. Decaying blood hung from open limbs and smeared across every part of their beings. It trailed down the sides of their faces, textured scarlet that made them appear all the more savage. Mark watched in horror as the group of corpses advanced towards them. His heart beat faster with each forward step.

 

Mark sees what happens next in terrible slow motion scene; Jackson lifts his gun and tracks backward, but steps on one of the cans that had fallen from his backpack, he staggers around trying to regain his balance but fails and goes down.

 

Mark grabs his hatchet and sprints toward Jackson, taking the thing out with one well-placed swing of his arm, putting his weapon through the back of its head. He turned to Jackson, gripping his arm for support and hauls him from the floor.

 

"Run into the line of trees," Jackson pointed behind him. "I'll be right behind you," he added with a glint in his dark eyes. Without another word, Mark ran through the line of trees. He charged forward, running deeper into the woods, not necessarily following an exact path. There was only one thing on his mind, survival. They had to make it out alive. They had to escape the corpses.

 

All the while Mark could feel the growing pain in his abdomen, burning through every fiber of his being, down each of his limbs and clenching at his chest. He should have told Jackson. The only think that made him keep going was the adrenaline. Pain mixed with adrenaline, but Mark didn't stop, looking behind him from time to time to make sure Jackson was still there with him.

 

He was almost at the top of the hill; no snarls or signs of corpses could be heard or seen, but the fear was still very present, he almost tumbles across the floor his ribs blazing in a sudden burning pain. Mark has to get up, though, has to move even if his chest feels like it's on fire; every intake of air is like a knife twisting in his side.

 

They had to survive.

 

Strong arms suddenly grasped his elbow and he was roughly pulled to a stop. "Jesus Mark, you sure can run." Jackson said, wrapping his arms around him.

 

"Jackson," Mark said, clutching his chest, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. "Remember when I fall through the rotting ceiling of that house we were searching?"

 

"How could I forget. I had to carry your heavy ass." Jackson scowled, letting go of him. Mark was going to reply when he heard. Heavy whispers, the sound of footsteps. Jackson put himself in front of Mark, ready to protect him in case of need, and that was when his world turned black.

 

  
_"Just hold it a bit longer Gyomie" Mark pleads to the toddler, only to be interrupted by a tugging on his hair._

 

_"Markie." He says timidly._

 

_"Yes, Yugyeom." Mark grimaced._

 

_"I got to go..."_

 

_"Wait, let me put you dow- oh did you pee on me?"_

 

  
**July 18, 2015, 13:20 PM**

 

It wasn't the moans of the dead that woke Mark, it was pure laughter. His eyes fluttered open to see what looked to be a room, the bed he was was soft and he tried to search through his hazy memories to figure out what had happened.

 

The last thing he clearly remembered was a pain in his side. He closed his eyes again as he mentally pictured the location they were, trying to remember every detail. Mark looked around, trying to blink back the blurs at the edge of his vision. A sharp pain shot through his side as he tried to push himself into a sitting position, failing miserably to get up. Disappointed, he looked down to see that his blood stained and torn tank top had been replaced by a red shirt that was a little big for him.

 

Mark felt his cheeks flush and his stomach turned at the thought of someone changing his clothes for him. He lifted the shirt and found his stomach was neatly bandaged. He let out a disgruntled noise before dropping the shirt gingerly back into place. This was frustrating. He could barely move, how could he take care of Jackson?

 

_Jackson?_

 

Just like that, he felt his vision clouding with tears, thinking of the worst scenarios possible. Just the thought of not seeing Jackson was enough to make his breathing hitch with a soft sob, a whimpering traveling in the air, expressing his misery.

 

He turned his attention back to the outside of the room as he heard more laughter. It didn't take long for the voices to die out and he was left in complete silence for several minutes before he heard footsteps coming up metal stairs. Mark tensed but didn't move, wishing to be Jackson at the door.

 

_It was._

 

"How do you feel?" Jackson asked, sitting next to him in bed, caressing the back of his hand.

 

Ignoring the burning ache in his side, Mark throws himself at Jackson, and the other holds him firmly against his chest, fingers entwined in his hair as Mark sobs on his shoulder. It’s a constant crushing fear every time he imagines Jackson vanishing before his eyes just like everyone he ever cared about did. Some would call it co-dependence, but it was so much more than that, how could he be alone in this world all over again?

 

Mark clenches his fingers on Jackson's shirt, trying to pull him closer.

 

"It's okay," Jackson says in a shooting tone.

 

"Please," Mark whispers against Jackson's shoulder.

 

"Tell me," Jackson pleads, voice soft and calm. His hand keeps rubbing his back in soothing circles and Mark feels so safe that his heart swells in his chest, and for a moment it is hard to believe that this is his reality.

 

"Please, don't leave."

 

"Mark, I'm not going anywhere," Jackson replies, but he doesn’t understand, Mark needs him too though.

 

"Don't die." He whispers, breath itching.

 

"Hey," Jackson grabs his face in his hands. "Mark, look at me."

 

Mark closes his eyes and breathes out, but no matter what, he can’t seem to swallow the lump in his throat.

 

"I'm here." Jackson talks simply, thumb caressing Mark's cheek. There may be tears welling in Mark’s eyes, and Jackson looks so scared and sad that Mark wants nothing more than a kiss.

 

"Kiss me," Mark begs, rough and desperate. He grabs Jackson’s arms, fingers pressing hard on his shirt.

 

Mark never felt this weak and pathetic in his life, but Jackson doesn’t mock him, no, he nods tilting his head to the side and cupping Mark’s jaw. Mark closes his eyes and Jackson cleans the tears the fall down with his thumb.

 

The kiss is slow and warm, a mere touch of their lips, but it is more than enough when threads his fingers through Mark’ hair, just holding him there, tight in his arms, mumbling reassuring words and soft promises on his ears. The spell broke though when Mark, once again, hears whispering behind the door and he sees Youngjae entering the room with a tray full of food.

 

"Youngjae?" Mark asked, his eyes double sized.

 

"I told you they were looking for us," Jackson said poking him in the cheek.

 

  
**July 20, 2015, 03:33 AM**

 

Mark was warmly comfortable on Jackson's embrace, still in shock of how lucky he had been. Every time he remembered his little brother, instead of the hurt and guilt he felt, now he was proud of his little baby. He was such a mess after the reunion that Jackson had to carry him to their room and repetitively telling him they were all alive and healthy.

 

.  
.

 

_"Markie!"_

 

_His little brother. There he was. Covered in dirt and tears and running towards him._

 

_Mark scrambled to his feet, weak-kneed, and grabbed Yugyeom like he might disappear at any moment. He clutched at him tightly, in turn, reassuring him that he really was here with his chubby cheeks and tiny hands. He was crying with relief just as hard as he had been with grief._

 

_"Oh my baby," Mark whimpered shakily. "My baby." he sobbed, kissing his tangled hair again and again._

 

_"It's okay, take your time," Jackson said to his ear and Mark hugged him too. All this seemed too good to be true, to go from losing everything to having it all so quickly._

 

_"What took you so long?" Yugyeom asked, making him sob onto Jackson's shoulder._

 

_Jackson just leaned back far enough to put a soft kiss on his cheek, and then held him tighter, trapping Yugyeom between them._

 

_Mark would never let them go._

 

.  
.

 

Mark curled against the warmth sighing. Being with Jackson, the way he kissed him, the way he touched him. Mark didn't have anything to compare it with, not really, at least not in the same way. Jackson had awoken a depth of desire that made every touch, every caress, kiss, or look reach in so deeply and fill him with a desperate need to be closer, to give himself up completely.

 

Unfortunately, Jackson's breathing and his own racing thoughts weren't the only things he heard either and with a sigh, he steeled himself against the noise, closed his eyes and tried to think of anything that wasn't what he was hearing right now at such a stupid time in the morning.

 

"Jaebum no," he heard Jinyoung whisper, his voice sounding breathy. "No, _no_! Jaebum, stop or…"

 

_Damn it Jaebum, not fucking now_! Mark growled to himself once he heard the sound of what he guessed to be Jaebum's jacket hitting the floor which was then followed by small shushing noises and giggles that told him all that he needed to know.

 

"They're asleep Jinyoung," Jaebum's voice was also a whisper, but the husky tone was hard to miss and the sound of it made Mark shudder and he inwardly curled towards Jackson's embrace as if that would protect him from hearing it, "so less talking and more taking off your clothes, right?"

 

"Jaebum…" A warning tone, one that Jaebum answered with, what Mark imagined to be a coy smile, as his ears were once more filled with the sound of fabric rustling and shoes being thrown off feet to land somewhere on the wooden floorboards of the house.

 

Mark cringed once he heard the sound of a gasp and something hitting the wall, next to their open room door, really wishing that they would just move the hell on into Jinyoung's bedroom or something because he wouldn't be able to look them in the eye ever again without blushing.

 

He risked opening his eyes to see what the hell was going on before quickly closing them again, the image he had seen burned into his mind, making him wish he hadn't opened them because _damn it_ , they were still in front of his room and Mark could see everything.

 

With a groan Mark made the effort of showing the two boys his bare back as he turned around in Jackson's arms, hiding his opened eyes from them both and found to his surprise that Jackson was staring right back at him with glazed eyes.

 

The sound of shuffling footsteps moving across the floor wasn't lost on him and when the small, muffled noise of a door lock clicking he let out a breath of relief, pleased that he could now breathe without having to worry about Jinyoung and Jaebum filling his ears with their whimpers and groans.

 

Jackson nudged him and Mark had to bite his lip to stop any whimper from escaping him when he met piercing dark eyes.

 

"Hey Mark," the other whispered, his voice rough from the sleep, "I love you."

 

Mark gasps, eyes wide, "What?"

 

"What what?" Jackson shrugs lazily.

 

"You're in love with me?" Mark's voice is small as the words come out, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

 

Jackson leans closer until their foreheads are touching, his hand reaching up to cup Mark’s jaw, fingertips caressing him gently, "What am I going to do with you?" He wonders, a soft smile on his lips.

 

Jackson lets their noses brush together, his hand lifting to touch Mark's hair. "I love you," he whispers against his lips. "You're an idiot for thinking otherwise."

 

Mark wants to protest, but then Jackson captures his lips in a sweet kiss, slow and tender. His heart light and heavy finally for the first time in so long.

 

Mark pulls away slightly to breathe and Jackson takes advantage of it to suck on his bottom lip. Each intake of breath a reminder of what’s happening, of how it feels to have Jackson’s hot hands tracing his body, how Jackson’s lips burn against his, how Jackson is both demanding and caring with him. Mark is entranced by Jackson’s body against his own as Jackson leaves open mouth kisses along his neck. Mark gasps in surprise when Jackson bites him softly on his earlobe but quickly slides a hand over Jackson’s hair to pull him closer.

 

Jackson chuckles the sound making him shiver. "We better sleep," Jackson says, voice husky. "Or maybe we can fight fire with fire?"

 

_The End_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in the sequel, which will be a collection of moments.


End file.
